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Dickins and Drane of that place. A Kentuckian happening to be in Canton, spoke of the duel, and charged Mr. Mitchell Calhoun, the second of Drane, with cowardice and unfairness. Mr. Calhoun called on the Kentuckian for an explanation, and the offensive charge was repeated. A challenge and fight with Bowie knives, toe to toe, were the consequences.
It charged Laura Hawkins, in effect, with the premeditated murder of George Selby, by shooting him with a pistol, with a revolver, shotgun, rifle, repeater, breech-loader, cannon, six-shooter, with a gun, or some other, weapon; with killing him with a slung-shot, a bludgeon, carving knife, bowie knife, pen knife, rolling pin, car, hook, dagger, hair pin, with a hammer, with a screw-driver; with a nail, and with all other weapons and utensils whatsoever, at the Southern hotel and in all other hotels and places wheresoever, on the thirteenth day of March and all other days of the Christian era wheresoever.
Some of the cartridge-pouches that I examined were completely filled, showing that their possessors had not fired a single round; others had but one cartridge missing. There were fragments of clothing, hair, blankets, murderous bowie and dirk knives, spurs, flasks, caps, and plumes, dropped all the way through the thicket, and the trees on every hand were riddled with balls.
Like a flash, his fingers closed over the bone handle of the knife instead. Hermosillo found himself with the cold point of the gleaming bowie pressed against his throat! At the same time, Kid Wolf whirled his body about so that the officer was between him and the firing squad. His left hand held the captain in a grip of steel; his right held the glittering blade against Hermosillo's Adam's apple!
His beard was so long and scant that, to keep the breezes from blowing it about to his discomfort, he had tucked the ends of it into his vest pocket; his eyes, black as coals, were piercing as gimlets, their sharpness equalled by nothing that I had ever seen, excepting perhaps the point of this same person's nose, which was long and thin, suggesting a razor with a bowie point; his slight body was clad in sombre garb, and at first glance he appeared to me so disquietingly like a visitor from the supernatural world that I shuddered; but when he spoke, his voice was all gentleness, and whatever of fear I had experienced was in a moment dissipated.
"The Lizard's some quick, but Cherokee's too soon for him. With the first move of the Lizard's hand, he searches out a bowie from som'ers back of his neck. I'm some employed placin' myse'f at the time, an' don't decern it none till Cherokee brings it over his shoulder like a stream of white light. "It's shore great knife-work. Cherokee gives the Lizard aige an p'int, an' all in one motion.
The Barnstable boys done tuk hit up, an' said the Barnstables wuz ez good ez the Hartburns ary day in the week, an' at the weddin' Nels Barnstable had his eye gouged out, Ike Barnstable wuz knocked down with a flail, an' had what the doctor called discussion o' the brain, and ole Sandy Barnstable cut off Pete Hartburn's ear with a bowie.
The name of M.B. Lamar is identified with the history of Texas, as a leader among that band of remarkable men who achieved her independence of Mexican rule Houston, Sidney Johnson, Bowie, Travis, Crockett, and Fannin. He was twice married; his first wife, Miss Jordan, died young, leaving him a daughter. This was a bitter blow, and it was long ere he recovered it.
As it was the time of the assizes, some fifty or sixty individuals had come from different quarters, either to witness the proceedings, or to swap their horses, their saddles, their bowie knife, or anything; for it is while law is exercising its functions that a Texian is most anxious to swap, to cheat, to gamble, and to pick pockets and quarrel under its nose, just to shew his independence of all law.
Hardin has struggled to his feet. In his hand, flashes a pistol. Joe Woods smiles. "Trying the old El Dorado dodge, Judge, won't work. Sit down now. Listen to me. Put up that shooting iron, or I'll nail you to the wall." His bowie knife presses a keen point to Hardin's breast. It is checkmate. Natalie Santos is buried in the cushions of her chair. She is sobbing wildly.
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